Rissa’s Men

by Marla Monroe

  But did she cook?

  For some reason that thought followed him throughout the day. Why it was important, Jethro really didn’t know. They’d dated lots of women who could barely boil water. It hadn’t bothered him before. Maybe it was because before now, Jethro hadn’t expected much to come of the relationships despite how much they’d wanted one to work out. He wanted a chance at making one work with Rissa. She was special.

  He chuckled as he returned to what he’d been doing. Deacon’s comments before about pedicures and spa days amused him again. He liked the idea of their woman keeping herself primped up for them. He’d personally paint her toenails if he could. He wasn’t so sure he could do it without getting it all over her though. Still, the idea amused him even more.

  Wonder if she shaves, trims, or goes natural with her pussy?

  His cock twitched at the thought of exploring to find out. While he didn’t mind a woman with a full muff, they were so much more responsive and sensitive when they were either trimmed or bare. Deacon especially loved a well-trimmed pussy, and would get off on trimming one himself. He liked knowing he’d done something that personal for their woman. Yeah, Jethro hoped she trimmed. Maybe a nice little strip that Deacon could keep fixed up for her.

  “What the fuck are you grinning about?” Deacon’s voice cut through his thoughts.

  “Nothing. Here’s the last board for the frame. I’m hungry. Want to knock off for lunch?” Jethro asked.

  “Yeah. I just sent the guys to eat. They’ll be back by one.” Deacon eyed him warily. “I don’t like it when you smile like that.”

  “Like what?” Jethro asked widening his eyes.

  “Like that, fucker. You’re up to something, and I’m not going to like it.”

  “Oh, I think you’ll like it just fine. But I’m not up to anything. Just thinking about Rissa and wondering if she shaves or not.”

  “I swear, Jethro. You try and get me all riled up just to screw with me. I’m guessing you aren’t talking about her legs or her underarms.”

  Jethro laughed. “No. I bet she waxes those. I’m thinking about her sweet pussy. Want to take a bet on if she’s bare or not?”

  “That would mean that we’d either have to ask her or see for ourselves, and we’re not doing either of them. She’s our boss, Jethro. What part of off fucking limits don’t you understand?”

  “Calm down. I’m not going to ask her out or anything. I’m just going to keep her close. Once we finish this project, all bets are off then. I want her, Deacon, and you do, too.” Jethro narrowed his eyes at his friend. “Don’t try and tell me you don’t. You wouldn’t have gone that ballistic over those bruises if you’d just been outraged that some man had hurt a woman. You were acting like she was your woman.”

  “She’s not.”

  “Yet.”

  “Ever, Jethro. She’s out of our league.”

  “Doesn’t matter. She’s perfect for us.”

  Deacon pulled off his hard hat and slammed it on the sawhorse. “You’re messing with fire, man. All we’ll end up getting out of a fling with her is hurt, and maybe sued for sexual harassment.”

  “I don’t think so. I think she’d be good for us. I think she could be the one for us.”

  “You’re living in a dream world, Jethro. There isn’t a woman out there for us. Women don’t want two men for the rest of their lives. We’re just bucket list material. That’s all we’ll ever be.” Deacon stomped across the room and pounded down the stairs.

  “I don’t think so, Deacon. I think she’s the exception to the rule. We might be her entire bucket list.”

  * * * *

  “You look lovely tonight, Rissa. There’s something about you that’s different,” her father told her as they stepped into the Wiltshire’s home.

  “I feel more like myself than I have in a long time, Daddy.”

  “There’s something more. Have you met someone new?” he asked.

  She felt heat creep up her neck. “Maybe. But it’s too soon to know if anything will come of it.”

  “Who is it? I’ll check them out to see if they’re good enough for my little girl.”

  “No, you don’t. I’m not falling for that ploy. I’ll introduce you if things progress to going on an actual date with them or not.”

  She swallowed. She’d said them. Thankfully her father has missed that as he was already greeting their host and hostess. She really had to think before she talked around people. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of the idea of dating two different men. It was just that she always seemed to spout off things without thinking about it first. She needed to get better control of her mouth before it got her into serious trouble.

  “Clarissa. It’s so good to see you. I thought you’d be coming with Brad, but he showed up with someone else tonight.” Dorothy Wiltshire was obviously digging for whatever choice piece of gossip she could glean from Rissa.

  “I’m so glad he has someone already. We decided that we weren’t going anywhere with our relationship and parted ways. It was amicable.” She made sure to think about what she wanted to say before blurting out that he’d been a complete asshole.

  “I see. We’d all thought for sure you’d announce your engagement at any time. I’m so sorry things didn’t work out,” Dorothy said with a sly smile. “You must let me introduce you to Anthony Jennings. He’s the district manager for Stryker that makes those surgery things that they put in people. He’s very nice.”

  “Thanks, Dorothy. I’d love to meet him, but I’m really not interested in dating anyone right now. I’m busy with renovating my home and new business.”

  “I’d heard something about you buying an old building on the outskirts of the Renaissance District. Whatever are you planning to do with it?” Dorothy asked, looking around as if searching for someone.

  “I plan to open a shop on the bottom floor. The top one will be my new home.”

  “Oh, there’s Tony over there. Come on and let me introduce you.”

  Rissa doubted the other woman had heard a word of what she’d said. She sighed. Most of the people she knew would shake their heads or expect her new dream would wane away over time. It hurt that no one expected her to make a go of it. Even her father wasn’t convinced that she’d actually get the place open.

  “Tony. This is Clarissa Buchannan. I know I’ve mentioned her.” Dorothy beamed at the other man.

  “Rissa, right?” Tony asked.

  “That’s right. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Dorothy was telling me that you’re a sales manager for a surgical company.”

  “More or less,” he said with a warm smile. “I understand your father owns Buchannan Shipping. Is that right?”

  “Yes, that’s correct.” She sighed.

  It was all she was to the men in her circle. A means to an end. Namely, her father and his shipping company. What would a district sales manager dealing in medical parts want with a shipping company other than a cushy job as the boyfriend, fiancé, or husband of the daughter of who owned that shipping company? It was the story of her life. She’d never been wanted for herself, only for what she could give a man.

  Deacon or Jethro wouldn’t care who my father was or what they could get from him. I’m sure of it. They seem to like what they do.

  But they were off limits. They worked for her. She couldn’t get involved with someone who worked for her.

  She just couldn’t.

  “So, would you like to have dinner some night?” Tony was asking.

  “Oh, maybe one night. I’m kind of busy right now.”

  “I understand you probably have a lot of prior engagements. Maybe we could attend one together,” he prodded.

  He seemed to be crowding her into the wall as he talked. Rissa took a step to one side and ran right into Brad. His soft sneer morphed into a wide grin as he took in the man in front of her.

  “Well hi there, Tony. Haven’t seen you in some time. How are sales going?” Brad asked.

  “Brad. We’v
e grown our market share by nearly twenty-five percent last quarter.” Tony didn’t seem the least bit aware of the snub Brad had delivered.

  It made Rissa consider the other man a little more that he wasn’t privy to the art of the snub among her circle of acquaintances. Maybe spending a little time with him wasn’t such a bad idea. He obviously wasn’t as snotty as Brad had turned out to be. It wouldn’t hurt to have someone to go with to some of the events she was often expected to attend.

  “If you’d excuse us, Brad. We were firming up some plans,” Rissa said.

  She took Tony’s arm and stirred him toward the center of the room near the table where there were hors d’oeuvres. She popped one into her mouth and sipped on the wine she’d been carrying around. Tony smiled down at her and took one from the table as well.

  “So, we’re firming up some plans you said?”

  “I’ve been invited to a party at the Shoemakers’ home next Friday. Are you free? We could go together if you are,” she suggested. It was the closest she’d ever gotten to asking a man out on a date.

  Well, she was asking him out on a date. Imagine that. She smiled. Maybe this being single wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

  “Friday night? I should be free. What time? If I’m out of town, it will be at least six before I can be ready,” he said.

  “Oh, these things never really start until around seven. You can pick me up at seven. Will that work for you?” she asked.

  “Perfectly. Where do you live?” he asked, pulling his phone from his jacket pocket.

  Rissa gave him the address of her condo and, at his request, her phone number as well. It was only natural that he’d need her phone number in case anything came up and he couldn’t make it.

  “I just sent you a text, so you’ll have mine as well,” he said.

  Despite the fact that she’d thought she’d made a good move in taking Tony with her to the party the next Friday, something didn’t sit well with her. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she felt like she was making a big mistake. Had she jumped back in too fast after having dumped Brian? Was it really too soon when they’d barely had anything to do with each other in the last few months? Rissa wasn’t sure, but she knew she didn’t feel all that comfortable with going to the party with Tony.

  Thoughts of Jethro and Deacon surfaced, and the sick feeling only grew inside her like a turned-over ink well that spread its murky color all along her soul. Why was she thinking about them when they barely knew each other and were in no way dating? She wasn’t going behind their backs by going to the party with Tony. It bothered her nonetheless.

  They were off limits to her. She’d already established that, but the one place they weren’t off limits was in her dreams. And they’d been in her dreams a lot ever since she’d met them out on that dark road when she’d had the flat tired.

  Chapter Six

  “Looks good. Right there, John. Hold it while I secure it to the stud.” Deacon made quick work of securing the countertop to the cabinets below.

  He checked it again to be sure it was still flush to the wall and level. Everything checked out perfectly. He wouldn’t allow it to be any other way. Everything about Rissa’s home was going to be perfect if he had to redo something on his own. So far, the men had done their jobs, and everything he checked on was exactly like it was supposed to be.

  “Bathroom’s really coming along,” Jethro said from the doorway.

  “Yeah. Fucking love that shower. She had it designed perfectly, and the stone works with that glass,” he said.

  Jethro looked around then stepped in closer to where Deacon was inspecting the shower.

  “Makes me think of her holding onto that ledge there while I slam into her over and over,” Jethro said with a smile.

  “Asshole. You think I haven’t already imagined that? I’m a step ahead of you. I can’t stop thinking about her holding onto that fucking bench while I fuck her from behind. The damn shower would pelt me from all angles while I fill that hot, wet cunt of hers.”

  “Lot of different positions possible in there,” Jethro told him with a smile.

  “Fucker. You made me work on the shower while you worked on the other bathroom, just so I’d think about taking her in here. Admit it.” Deacon didn’t care. He’d been thinking about her and shower sex even before he’d started working on the master shower.

  “So? You needed a push in the right direction, man.”

  “I don’t need no pushing anywhere. I never said I didn’t want her. I just said that nothing could come of it. She isn’t some middle-class woman wanting a little down and dirty sex. She’s classy and above our pay grade, man. Get used to it. It ain’t gonna’ happen.”

  It didn’t matter how many times he told the other man. Jethro insisted it could work. What made him think it could? She was the daughter of some rich-as-shit shipping magnet who didn’t even acknowledge men like them existed.

  “I think you’re wrong. You’ll see. There’s something about her, man. Something that makes me feel like she’s ours. I’ve never felt that way about any of the women we’ve dated in the past. Even the ones we thought might work out.”

  “Something’s wrong with your thinker then.” Deacon shook his head. “I can already tell this is going to be a huge disaster because you’re not going to leave it alone. Are you?”

  “Nope. I’m right about her. You’ll see.”

  Deacon walked out of the bathroom to see if the tilers were going to be on time the next morning. They’d finished everything in the bathroom with the exception of the floor and the accessories such as the warming rack and the finishing touches like knobs and hooks. He stepped over to the window and put in a call to Harry who ran the guys that did all their tile work.

  After making sure they would arrive at seven the next morning, he walked over to the table with the plans and pored over the bathroom’s specifics to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. It had been designed perfectly. He’d have loved it if it had been his. Not just the shower, but the entire room. When Rissa walked out of her bedroom into the bathroom, she had the soaker tub to her left with a frosted window running the length of the wall from floor to ceiling. On the wall next to the bedroom was the double sink vanity with a granite countertop and moisture-proof wood cabinets beneath.

  Across from the bedroom door was the little sectioned-off room for the toilet and a large linen closet that was next to the massive walk-in stone-and-glass shower. He loved the hell out of the bathroom and had thought long and hard about how to incorporate it into his and Jethro’s home without luck. They just didn’t have that kind of space. Still, he could dream. Maybe they’d build a house one day. If they did, he was going to remember this bathroom.

  The other detail that had impressed him was the way she’d had the two walk-in closets decked out. One was obviously for a man with a revolving tie rack in the center along with a bench where he could sit and polish his shoes or whatever the hell men did with fancy-assed shoes. There were sections for suit coats, pants, and dress shirts as well as the more relaxed shirts and slacks. At least that was it looked like to him.

  Hell, he and Jethro both didn’t own enough clothes together to fit in the entire closet. Besides the hanging sections, there was a shelving unit at the back that would hold at least twenty pairs of shoes. What did a man need with twenty fucking pairs of shoes? Deacon had two pairs of work boots, a set of cowboy boots, and maybe a couple pairs of sneakers. He doubted Jethro had much more, though he did tend to dress a little nicer when they took someone out.

  I’m obsessing over the kind of man who’d appeal to Rissa. That’s what I’m doing. This shows me just how far she is out of our league.

  He walked away from the plans and returned to the bedroom to check that the smallest of details was in place. As he looked over everything, his head kept returning to the beautiful woman and how perfectly she’d fit between him and Jethro. She had the plus curvy body they both preferred. No bony protrusions t
hat would hurt when you got down to loving her. That little thought about if she shaved or trimmed had his dick straining against his jeans. He adjusted himself to get the damn thing off the line of his zipper.

  Damn Jethro, putting that thought in my head. I’ve got enough trouble thinking about her without that little tidbit.

  God, how he loved to shave a woman, knowing how it would make her feel every whisper of breath when he blew over the sensitive spots. He loved going down on one just after he’d cleaned her up. She’d be soft and tasty.

  What would Rissa taste like? Tart like a crisp green apple, or tangy like a zesty orange? Just the thought of eating her sweet pussy had him groaning in aggravation again. His fucking dick was going to burst his jeans if he didn’t stop thinking about the woman like that. She’d become the center of every dream he’d had lately, and no amount of jacking off in the shower had helped.

  “Holy fuck, Deacon. You’d better get that thing under control. Rissa just pulled up outside. She’s going to be here in a few seconds.” Jethro’s amused voice did little to dissuade his happy-as-shit dick.

  “Distract her. She sees me like this and she’ll run screaming from the building.” He stomped out of the bathroom. “And make sure she’s wearing that damn hard hat.”

  He could hear Jethro’s laughter as he walked down the stairs to catch Rissa before she headed upstairs and caught him trying to regain some control of his out-of-control hormones. He wasn’t a teenager that couldn’t control his cock. The damn thing just didn’t know how to behave when it came to that woman. She undid him in ways no one had ever done before. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he’d gotten this hard when he’d been sixteen.

  By the time Rissa and Jethro had made it upstairs, he’d managed to talk himself down to a reasonable level of arousal. Wasn’t comfortable, but thank God, they wore loose-fitting jeans for working in. No way he’d have been able to bend or squat in tight jeans like what they wore out. His damn dick would have broken the first time he’d bent over.